First Kiss
by Iheartkarmy
Summary: AU. Amy is seventeen and confused. Her friend Shane keeps having parties so she can meet girls and maybe find the one. After more than a few failed attempts, he finally introduces her to his 'friend', Karma. But when that doesn't go according to plan, Amy finds other girls to share first kisses with.
1. Chapter 1

The first time she kisses a girl, Amy is seventeen.

Her name is Karma and she's a friend of a friend and not entirely sure she likes girls, or even that she likes Amy. They meet at a party, one of the many Amy's GBF Shane hosts. Amy's spent far too much time at Shane's parties and met far too many girls.

Shane has a bit of an obsession with trying to find Ms. Right for her. Amy suspects it's so he can avoid his so far failing search to find Mr. Right for himself, but she also knows she'll never find, let alone kiss anyone on her own, so she lets him have his fun.

By Amy's count, Karma is the fourteenth or fifteenth girl Shane has introduced her to and she can tell by the expression on his face, the way he says her name (stressing and stretching out the 'Kar' and with a tone he usually reserves for talking about the less evolved - read: straight - people he meets), and the dismissive way he drops her in Amy's lap (almost literally) and then saunters off back to his other guests that she isn't his favorite of those fourteen or fifteen.

That, Amy knows would be Jasmine (number three) but she was too out, too proud, too sure of herself and her sexuality (a word Amy still has a hard time even thinking, let alone saying) and while Amy was certainly attracted and very interested, the timing wasn't right.

And by timing, Amy totally means _her_ timing which, she'd readily admit, has been off something fierce since she even, hesitatingly, admitted to Shane that she might, kinda, maybe, sorta might ( _again_ ) be into girls.

Amy had not understood at the time (though she certainly does _now_ ) that Shane doesn't come with a 'might' switch. He's all or nothing, in or out (with him, it's _always_ out) and these parties, almost two a month since Amy kinda-sorta-maybe came out to him are his way of dragging her from the "dark closet you've been hiding your lady loving light in" whether she's ready or not.

Sometimes Amy thinks she's ready. Take Carla (number five) for example. She was gorgeous with long brown hair and sea-blue eyes and a tattoo along her rib cage (Amy's eyes had nearly bugged out of her head) and a habit of reaching across the table and letting her fingers slowly dance across the top of Amy's hand.

For Carla, Amy could have been ready.

Unfortunately, so was Carla's boyfriend, watching them from across the room, the whole thing nothing but a show to get his engine running.

And _that_ little incident (and the fact that Amy still thinks about things like that as 'engines running') reminded her that, really, she's about as far a cry from being ready as one can be.

Not that her readiness (or his complete misreading of the 'gaydar' when it came to Carla) has slowed Shane down even a bit. He _did_ skip the parties for a couple weeks after that, but then was right back at it, with a vengeance.

Amy suspects though - and Karma may be the first real sign of it - that Shane's interest in her love life, or lack thereof, may be waning. It probably has less to do with her, she thinks, than it does with that hot MMA fighter (she's possibly gay, not _blind_ ) he met last week at the gym and she's fine with that.

Shane is always more fun when he's with someone. Which has _nothing_ to do with his attention being on someone else.

Nope. Nothing at all.

So Amy sits on the couch next to Karma, studiously following Shane's whispered advice and not asking her about her name ("she goes into this whole thing about her hippie parents and her dippy brother and some shit about smoothies and, _God_ , just don't go there") and they just keep looking at each other (smiling, of course) and then out at the house full of sweaty, half drunk teens, and then back at each other and Amy, _even Amy_ , knows this is no way to meet someone, let alone possibly kiss them.

(Shane wants her to get laid. Shane wants hot lady loving. Shane wants scissoring.)

(Amy wants - _needs_ \- a kiss. It's the only way, she thinks, she'll know.)

"You want to get out of here?" Karma asks. "I think there's like a swing or something in the backyard?"

Amy nods, gratefully, and they stand together, their arms swinging down by their side and their hands brush and Amy remembers the way her skin felt when Carla had touched her, all alive and electric and goose bumpy.

This isn't like that.

 _This_ is the immediate urge to take Karma's hand in hers and lace their fingers together and never let go.

And maybe, Amy thinks, she doesn't need a _kiss_ to know.

* * *

The first time she kisses a girl (the first time she kisses _Karma_ ), Amy is seventeen and sitting on the swing in the Harvey's backyard.

There's fewer people out there, almost everyone staying inside because it's November and even in Texas it can get a little chilly in the evening, and that makes both of them immediately more comfortable.

Comfortable Amy equals slightly more talkative Amy (emphasis on the slightly) and that's good and bad. Good because, Amy figures, there's never going to be a kiss (or forever hand holding for that matter) without talking.

Bad because, well, it's _Amy_ doing the talking.

"I like your name," she says, the words barely out of her mouth before she remembers what Shane said, "I mean, it's pretty and different, but I'm sure people ask you about it all the time, and I'm not. I mean, I am if you want to tell me, but if you don't, cause people ask you so much, I totally…"

Never going to be a kiss without talking.

Amy's pretty sure that seals the deal on her ever getting that kiss. Or the hand holding. Or the anything, really.

"Thank you," Karma says. She keeps staring at the ground in front of the swing, scuffing her shoes against it, giving them the tiniest of pushes. "People do ask," she says. "A lot." She doesn't say it like it bothers her or she's upset and she actually smiles a little. "I got so tired of it I started telling everyone who asked these long, drawn out stories about my brother and my family and their ridiculous 'naming rituals'."

"So you don't have a brother?" Amy asks. Usually, at this point, she'd have already reached the 'feigning interest' stage (Shane chooses well physically - see: Carla - but horribly in terms of personality - see: also Carla), but with Karma, Amy's still genuinely curious.

It's early though. She's sure it will fade.

"No,' Karma says. "I do. His name's Zen." She pauses, waiting for the reaction (there's _always_ a reaction) but all Amy gives her is silence, waiting for her to continue and Karma, honestly, has no idea what to do with that. "My parents are a bit… hippieish," she says. "But really, they just put a bunch of crazy ass names in a hat and plucked one out for each of us. I had as good a chance of being named Zelda or Beth as I did Karma."

Amy scrunches her nose and looks at Karma, then shakes her head. "Definitely not a Zelda," she says, though, in all honesty, how many really _are_ , right? "And Beth's pretty, but... it's too plain. Too common."

Karma smiles (and Amy's pretty sure she blushes too but it's dark out and she has read hair and Amy can't be sure) and nudges Amy with her elbow. "You've known me five minutes," she says. "Trust me, I'm as plain as they come."

' _Not possible_ ' bubbles up in Amy's throat but she doesn't say it (she's never sure when's too soon or too late to say these kinds of things and she really doesn't want to scare Karma off - see: Iris, #10 - so saying nothing seems the smarter play) and instead she just smiles at her.

Yeah. Cause not speaking and just smiling in the dark doesn't seem creepy. Not in the least.

"You known Shane long?" Karma asks, totally noticing the sigh of relief Amy lets out when someone else picks up the small talk conversational ball.

Amy nods. "Most of my life," she says. "We met in a summer camp program when we were like seven. He liked my dress. He told me that the cut was good but the coloring was all wrong for my skin tone. Looking back," she says, "that should have been my first clue."

Karma smiles, and it's all teeth and joy and even in the dark it lights up her face and _that_ , Amy quickly decides, is an expression she'd like to see a lot more of.

"We met in a theater program," Karma says. "My family only moved here last Spring. I didn't have many friends so I joined a local theater troupe."

"You're an actress?" Amy asks, mentally high fiving herself for actually contributing to the conversation.

"No," Karma says, "not really. I sing and they were doing a musical, so…" She shrugs. "Now, mostly, I help with building and painting the sets but it's fun and I made a few friends and now Shane invites me to his parties, even though I don't think he really likes me too much."

"Oh?"

Twice. She extended the conversation _twice_.

Kiss or no kiss, Amy's going to chalk this one up as a win.

Karma scuffs her shoe again, pushing them a little harder. "The first day we met, he thought I was a lesbian," Karma says. "And when I told him I wasn't…"

Amy can literally feel her stomach drop down to her shoes and the color drain from her face and she thanks God it's dark out and Karma can't see.

"Shane," Karma says, "has a real hard time with the idea that someone might be bi."

Wait. _What_?

"He tried telling me that bisexuality is a myth and it's either just gay girls afraid to commit or oversexed nymphos trying to turn on their boyfriends," Karma says. "And I'm neither of those, so I don't exactly fit into his tiny little bi box and what Shane can't pigeonhole…"

"He doesn't like," Amy says softly. She opens her mouth to speak again, but then closes it, then opens it…

She looks like a fish drowning in the air.

"Yes," Karma says, answering the question Amy hasn't actually _asked_. "I'm bi. Or, at least, I think I am. I wouldn't really know for sure, I've never been with anyone."

Amy finds her voice (even if it cracks slightly) and says "But you think.. I mean... you're attracted… I mean… you might…"

Chalking this up as a win might have been a bit premature.

"Yeah," Karma says. She pulls her legs up onto the swing and turns to face Amy. "I think so. I've always thought girls were attractive," she says. "And lately...not _lately_ … like the last couple of years. I just...I really, _really_ want to kiss a girl." She pauses, realizing how that probably sounds. "Not like _any_ girl," she says. "I mean, it's not like I could kiss _any_ guy, either, though there was this one friend of Shane's… Liam something or other"

Karma sees the look on Amy's face (a cross between disappointment, disgust, and something she thinks is confusion) and trails off and shakes her head.

Sometimes, Karma knows, she can just be so…. _Karma._

"I'm probably sounding _so_ bad right now," she says.

Amy shakes her head and pulls her own legs up onto the swing, her foot brushing against the bare skin of Karma's leg as she does. "No," she says. "I get it. I _really_ get it," she smiles at Karma in the dark. "Shane's been having these parties just to try and find _me_ a girl to kiss and…"

Now it's Amy's turn to trail off, realizing she just basically described Shane as her pimp and Karma as her next possible John.

Or Jane. Or whatever.

"That's not what I meant," Amy says. "Or not _how_ I meant it, I mean he's just been trying to play matchmaker because he knows how shy I am and he's sure I'll be like eighty and never been kissed which, really, when I think about it? It's kinda insulting and I probably should -"

She's silenced - in the best possible way _ever_ \- by Karma's lips on hers.

It's softer than Amy expected and also somewhat warmer, especially given the chill in the air, and it's gentle, at first, like Karma's afraid she's going to break but then Amy's hands find Karma's hips and tug the other girl closer. Karma ends up practically on Amy's lap, her hands cupping Amy's cheek and when she slides her tongue along the blonde's lips, Amy parts them, allowing Karma to slip that tongue into her mouth.

And… wow.

Yup. There's better words. More emphatic words. Hotter, sexier, more 'I'm so kissing more girls but not in a slutty I'm going to just kiss every girl I come across but maybe…' words.

But right now? Wow about covers it.

It all happens so fast and Amy barely even has time to process before there's a crash and she's sliding and slipping and the next thing she knows she's on top of Karma, in the grass,the kiss broken and the chain holding one end of the swing snapped and dangling.

They've been tipped to the ground and Amy is incredibly self conscious of the way her body is pressing against Karma's. The redhead reaches up and brushes Amy's hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Woah," she says.

Amy nods. "I know."

"That was…" Karma's eyes search Amy's, and Amy can see the fear there, the confusion, the reluctance to say it because neither of them wants to go first.

"That _was_ ," Amy says. "It was…" She closes her eyes, afraid to see Karma's reaction if she's wrong. "Nothing?"

"Oh, thank God," Karma says beneath her. "I was afraid it was just me." She laughs and lets out a long sigh. "I mean, don't get me wrong. You? Excellent kisser. Really. Just great."

Amy rolls off onto her side, giving Karma room to breathe. "You too," she says. "As first kisses go, that one was right up there. Not that I have much to compare it to, but still…"

Karma stays on her back, but her hand finds Amy's and laces their fingers together. "I really wanted it to be…" She doesn't want to say _more_ because that would mean it was, somehow, _less_ but, really?

She wanted it to be more.

"Me too," Amy says. She flops over onto her back and both girls stare up at the stars. "Does this mean you're not bi?"

"I don't know," Karma says. "Maybe. Probably not. I mean, I _liked_ it, but… maybe it just means that you and I -"

"Are destined to be just friends?"

"Great friends," Karma says and she nods even though Amy's not looking. "Does this mean _you're_ not gay?"

Amy thinks about it. "There was no spark," she says. "there was no fire, there was no 'I have to spend the rest of my life kissing you and only you' moment."

"But?" Karma senses a but.

" _But_ ," Amy says, "there was definitely a 'I wouldn't _mind_ kissing you' moment. Or two." She props herself up on her elbows and looks over at Karma. "Like, I wouldn't object if, you know, you wanted to do that again. Say, just as…"

"Practice?" Karma asks and she dissolves into giggles at the overly enthusiastic nod Amy gives her. "You, Amy Raudenfeld, are a horny teenager, you know that? Wanting to kiss a girl you have no romantic interest in and no, what did you call it? Spark?"

Amy shrugs and then ( in a moment she'll _never_ forget) she leans down over Karma, their noses brushing against each other. "I didn't hear a 'no'," she says.

"And you won't," Karma says, closing the very short distance between their lips. "At least not tonight."

The second time she kisses a girl, Amy is seventeen, in Shane's backyard, sprawled on the grass underneath the stars. It (or one of the few more kisses that follow it) will be the last time she ever kisses Karma, at least like _that_.

But as first kisses go… yeah… it was right up there. And if kiss number one (and two and three and on…) were that good with the wrong girl?

Amy can't wait to find the right one.

Looks like Shane's going to be having a few more parties after all.


	2. Reagan

The third time Amy kisses a girl, she's a freshman in college and she has Liam Booker to thank for it.

(The second time, the one after Karma, a girl named Rachel who she meets at another of Shane's parties… well.. the less said about that, the better.)

Her name (third time girl) is Reagan and Amy meets her at a party too, but not one of Shane's.

(Amy has sworn off Shane parties for the foreseeable future, and by foreseeable, she pretty much means forever. Blame it on Rachel. Amy does.)

 _This_ party is a much swankier affair, the kind of thing Amy would never go to (or _want_ to) on her own. But when it comes to her social life the last year or so, Amy has learned two very simple lessons.

She is never _on her own_. And Shane and Karma, despite not really liking each other, are a combined force of nature that no one could resist.

They made her come to this thing, both of them.

"Please?" Karma asked her and she asked it in that way that Amy knows, even after only a year of friendship (a year that has made Amy wonder how she ever lived _without_ Karma), will get her to do virtually anything.

(Emphasis on the _virtually_ because no matter how Karma begs or pleads or bats her eyes, Amy will never _again_ drink one of her mother's smoothies.)

"I need you to go," Karma said. " _Need_. He's going to be there and so is Shane and you know how I get around Shane and you know how I get around _him_ and if you're not there to help me…."

Amy gave in, at least in part, to shut Karma up. She loves her, really she does, and there are very few things she _wouldn't_ do for her (see: drinking Molly's smoothies) but sometimes there are moments when Amy's so _very_ grateful there was no spark. Best friend Karma is demanding enough.

Amy's sort of terrified at the thought of _girlfriend_ Karma.

Shane was no less demanding and _far_ less… requesting. "You're going," he said, in that way that Amy, after being friends with him for like forever, knows will get her to do absolutely nothing. Shane knows it too. But he also knows if he says it often enough (at least once an hour, every hour, including text message that wake Amy in the middle of the night) eventually she'll cave and do exactly what he wants.

Both of them, Karma and Shane, are invested in this thing because of, as Karma said, _him_.

'Him', Amy knows, is Liam, Shane's other best friend, the only other person who's known (read: tolerated) Shane as long as she has. And that, in a nutshell, describes Amy's relationship with _him_. Tolerance. It's _not_ a friendship.

(They tried that once. _Once_.)

It's also not an active dislike. Liam isn't her cup of tea, but Amy can see the appeal. He's open minded (the first time she met him he was beating up a third grader who'd dared to call Shane a 'fag') and loyal (see: not ditching Shane when, seven years later, he picked a fight with that same, though much older and more muscular third grader, a fight Liam had to save him from) and, in an abstract sense, at least to Amy, good looking and charming.

Though, if guys like Liam are supposed to be the best of the best? Amy's really glad she's into girls. He has, lately, just rubbed her the totally wrong way.

And, of course, _that's_ got nothing to do with the fact that Liam also happens to be the guy Karma is kinda, sorta, maybe seeing.

"We're not exclusive," Karma says. "I'm not even sure I like him. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't." She nods the whole time, as if the answer to everything is 'yes'. "It's like the weather," she says. "Always changing."

Amy's mother is a meteorologist. She _knows_ about the weather in Texas and, protestations and excuses notwithstanding, Karma and Liam are far more constant than the weather.

Sometimes she likes him. And sometimes she _likes_ him.

Amy's never quite sure the 'like' is a mutual thing (she can't be bothered to spend _that_ much time studying Liam Booker) but Karma's happy, usually, so Amy shrugs and tries to pretend that Liam having his hooks in _both_ her best friends doesn't bother her. And it doesn't, not really, not usually.

Parties at the Booker mansion are not usually.

The party is some big deal for the Bookers. Amy's known him forever and she can count on one hand (with fingers left over) the number of times she's met any portion of his family other than the nanny or the driver. So, she gets that having such a public soiree _and_ letting Liam invite his friends (read: Shane, the girl he kinda, maybe, sorta likes, and 'the other one') _is_ a big deal.

It matters to Liam so it matters to Shane _and_ to Karma and so, by the transitive property of giving a fuck, it matters to Amy.

There are times, more and more often lately, when Amy thinks she really needs a few more friends. Like maybe she should find someone at school to hang out with. Maybe join a band or something.

The whole thing, Bookers included, is not how Amy would like to be spending her Thursday afternoon (and really, who has fancy parties on a _Thursday_?) She feels out of place (she is), underdressed (again, she is) and she has the urge to disappear even more than usual. Shane and Karma are rocking their increasingly hostile frenemy thing (all about Liam and Amy can't help wondering why neither of them ever gets that possessive about _her_ ) and they both abandon her almost immediately upon arrival.

Amy snatches a couple of shrimp from a passing hors d'oeuvres tray and wonders why they both worked so hard to get her there.

The answer comes promptly at two p.m., just after Amy has found an empty couch in a corner of the emptiest room to perch on and she can't believe she didn't see it coming.

It's a fucking parade. A full on bevy (and she's never once thought she'd use the word 'bevy') of girls, some of them old enough to be considered, by Amy's fairly sheltered standards, as _women_ and her two best friends are dropping them by, one after another.

Amy wonders if she can get a drink from one of the waiters. Or, at least, more shrimp.

Shane and Karma are desperate to pair her off, each for their own reasons. Karma wants someone to double date with (someone who _isn't_ Shane) and finding Amy a girl would be the perfect solution.

Shane wants someone to make Karma jealous.

"She wants you," he says, _repeatedly_ (every hour on the hour). "Karma is totally into you," he says. "She just doesn't know it yet."

Amy's seen Karma with Liam. Maybe Karma doesn't know what Karma being totally into someone looks like, but Amy does. And it doesn't look a _thing_ like Karma looking at her.

Shane disagrees (read: not a surprise). "What you need to do," he says, "is find yourself a girl, especially if she's really, really hot." Shane knows Karma's insecurities and isn't above exploiting them at every opportunity. "The quickest way to get over someone - or to make someone realize _they're_ not over _you_ \- is to get under someone else."

Amy has serious doubts about Shane's theory, not the least of which is that she's pretty sure (as sure as Amy ever is about anything) that she doesn't _want_ Karma to be under her. Plus, Karma's not sure she's bi anymore (and Amy's not sure she ever was because, her own sexual confusion aside, she's pretty positive being bi isn't something you get over like a cold or a stomach bug).

She even tries to point out to Shane the most glaring flaw in his logic. "If she's so into me, why does she keep trying to fix me up with every girl she meets?"

(There was Suzanne, Grace, Remi, Becky, Alecia, Lizzy, and Laura.)

Shane was having none of _that_. "It's the three D's," he says. "Deflection, defense, and confusion."

"Confusion starts with a 'c'," Amy reminds him.

"Don't bother me with details," Shane says. "She wants you. I can tell. I can _feel_ the sapphic energy and honey, you just need to let it happen."

And, since Amy is apparently somehow not 'letting it happen', Shane has decided to take matters into his own hands and so has Karma.

As if there's any way this can possibly end well.

Shane's first, meandering by and dropping an "Oh, _that's_ where you got off to," on her (as if he hasn't known exactly where she's been the whole time) with a redhead named Ruby in tow.

She's twenty-two, a senior bio major (strike one) and, as Shane whispers to Amy, "single and ready to mingle. In your pants."

Ruby settles on the couch and Shane disappears and Amy silently vows to _make_ him disappear the next time she sees him. She and Ruby make small talk, which for Amy is even smaller than usual, and mostly consists of Ruby rambling on about her spot on the softball team (strike two).

Amy plucks a couple more shrimp off a tray brought around by one of the cater-waiters. "You like shrimp?" Ruby asks and the crinkling of her nose and pursing of her lips in distaste tells Amy that she _doesn't_ (strike three and, really, a deal breaker on it's own) and at least gives her an escape.

"Like them?" she asks. "I _love_ them." Another waiter appears (or it could be the same one, Amy can't be sure, though this one is kinda cute but, no, busy here…) and Amy snatches a couple more shrimp from the tray, shoving two of them in her mouth while piling a small aquarium's worth of them on her napkin.

"My friends," she says, "call me Shrimp Girl." She smiles, a tiny bit of shrimp escaping slipping free onto chin.

Ruby makes an excuse about a phone call or a trip to the powder room or suddenly realizing she's totally straight (Amy's not sure which, she wasn't really listening) and leaves Amy to her shrimp.

Karma's up next. She foregoes the 'that's where you got off too' and instead she opts for the more classic "Amy! I've been looking _everywhere_ for you. Look who I bumped into!" as if Amy and bachelorette number 2 (Sandee, with two 'e's) both don't know how planned this all was.

Amy has to give Karma credit, she actually stays for a few minutes, desperately trying to keep the conversation going (it doesn't), Amy from saying something stupid (she does, asking why the two 'e's, wasn't one 'y' good enough?), and the cater waiter from coming by with _more_ shrimp (she does, and yes, it's the same one and yes, she is _cute_ ).

Sandee and her two 'e's make it just a little longer than Ruby, but by the time Amy has finished her second napkin full of shrimp, she's bailed and Karma is glaring at her best friend with the kind of look Amy usually reserves for when her mother forgets to pay the Netflix bill.

"What?" Amy says.

Karma huffs (the sound she actually makes is a 'huff') and storms off, either to find Liam (Amy hopes not) or to find her next possible match (Amy hopes not _more_ ).

Shane's up next, bachelorette number three coming with him. Bliss (and Amy almost chokes on a shrimp at the name), nineteen, a sophomore with a belly ring and a love of puppies.

She lasts through four shrimp.

Karma swings back around with bachelorette number four. Ella _is_ cute, Amy will give Karma that much. She's eighteen, a freshman with no definite major yet and a sarcastic sense of humor Amy finds slightly (read: _way_ more than slightly) attractive.

She side eyes Amy as she plucks a shrimp (just one, so, you know, there might be some interest here) from the tray. Amy offers her one but Ella shakes her head.

"I'm vegan," she says.

Amy pauses, her own shrimp half way to her lips. "Vegan," she says (and she tries really, really hard to not let the word sound as dirty as it feels). "One thing I've always wondered about," she says, "do vegans eat doughnuts?"

Ella frowns and Amy knows she's a goner before she even answers. "We can," she says. "If they're made right. You know, without the eggs and the dairy."

Strikes one, two, and three.

It goes on like this for a bit, the parade. There's Brooke, Perry, Jessica, Lisa, and Rachel (and yes, it's _that_ Rachel and how the _fuck_ did Shane forget Rachel?).

And then there's Stefanie, Natasha, Paige, and Amy (and yes _again_ , Karma tried to fix up Amy with Amy) and there's tray after tray of shrimp and Amy's starting to feel like a flamingo (who have bills especially made for scooping up shrimp, a fact _other_ Amy didn't find nearly as interesting as _original_ Amy).

The whole thing is, actually, kind of fun and Amy has to admit that seeing Karma and Shane growing increasingly frustrated (she's pretty sure neither of them is speaking to her at this point) has made the whole party at least tolerable.

Until now. Until _him_.

Liam sits down next to her and Amy pauses in mid-chew to look around the room in confusion because there's no way he _meant_ to sit with her, right?

"I think Shane's about ready to kill you," he says and so, maybe, he did _mean_ it. "And Karma's just about to cry."

Amy swallows her last bite of shrimp and stares straight ahead. She and Liam have about one conversation a year and they had that last month at Karma's birthday dinner so this one's not due for like another three hundred some odd days.

"They can be a bit much, can't they?" he asks but he doesn't look at her and Amy's not sure she's actually supposed to answer so she doesn't. "But they mean well and it's all because they love you, so…"

Amy crumples her napkin in her hand. And then uncrumples it. And then crumples it again.

She's got nothing.

"Good intentions or not," Liam says, "if I were you I'd be just about over it all and, maybe, looking for an escape?" He doesn't wait for her to respond. "If you want to get out of here, my driver's waiting in the storage room just off the main hall."

He points discreetly (so discreetly Amy almost misses it because she's not used to discreet, she's used to Shane and Karma) down a hallway to their left.

"I can make your excuses if they ask," he says as he stands. "Of course, you're welcome to stay but -"

She's off the couch and down the hall so fast she forgets to thank him and she'll totally handle that the next time she sees him.

(No, she won't.)

The storage room (and she doesn't wonder for a second why the driver would be in a _storage_ room) is easy to find and Amy quickly slips through the door except there's no driver, just lots and lots of things being… well… stored. Things like glasses and linens and bottles and bottles of champagne.

And one cater waiter. An admittedly cute one with no tray and no shrimp (not that Amy minds) but the best pair of…

Eyebrows!

That's totally what Amy was thinking. Best pair of eyebrows.

(Yeah. Right.)

She looks up from the bottles she's examining, and arches one of those brows (and Amy's heart climbs with it). "Hey… Shrimp Girl."

Amy has the sudden urge to down every bottle of champagne in the room, if only to un-dry her mouth and spare her the embarrassment of being 'Shrimp Girl'. (Even if the way it sounds coming out of _her_ mouth might make Amy feel some kind of way…) "Hey…" she manages, her eyes darting around the room in search of the driver that she's rapidly starting to think isn't actually here.

The cater waiter (the admittedly cute one and now that Amy gets a really good look, cute isn't quite the word she'd use) (hot) (hot is the word) (hot is _so_ the word) sets the bottle down and turns toward her, leaning against the crate of something or other behind her. "Finally get tired of all your girlfriends?"

Amy's confusion over the non-existent driver is replaced by the more pressing confusion over these 'girlfriends' (and, a little bit, by confusion over why she really doesn't want cute / hot cater waiter thinking she has girlfriends or even girl _friend_ ). "What?" she asks.

Cute / hot cater waiter (and why can't she just be wearing a damn name tag?) grins at her and Amy feels a sense of relief wash over her even if she has no idea why. "All those girls your friends kept bringing by," she says. "You were more popular than the Bookers."

"Oh," Amy says. "Them. Yeah, they weren't… um… see… there are no… girlfriends...around me… right… now."

(Oh, for fuck's sake…)

"Really?" cute / hot (her _new_ name) asks. "Their loss," she says. She plucks a couple bottles of champagne from the rack and sets them on her tray.

"Um… this is gonna sound really weird," Amy says (consciously choosing to ignore how weird 'there are no…' sounded moments before). "But I was supposed to be meeting a driver in here, so I could go home," she says. "You wouldn't happen to have seen one?"

Cute / hot shakes her head (and when she does a few strands of her hair, purple tipped at the ends, fall into her face and Amy seriously considers dropping the 'cute' from the name because the hot… _damn_ … the hot). "Nope," she says. "Just me. Mr. Booker, the young one, just asked me to come in here and get a couple more bottles. Not that they need them. There's at least two dozen out there already."

Mr. Booker. The _young_ one.

Liam. Liam fucking Booker.

"Well, I better get back out there," cute / hot says as she shuffles past Amy (maybe a little slower than necessary, unless Amy's imagining it). "See you around Shrimp Girl."

"Amy." She says it so fast it surprises even her but cute / hot stops next to her ( _right_ next to her) and looks at her in confusion. "I… um… sometimes also go by Amy," she says.

"Reagan," cute / hot… _Reagan_.. says.

Amy smiles and then, before she can stop herself (read: before she can freak out), "Can I get your number?" Reagan arches a brow again and Amy's afraid she's been too subtle (because _that's_ her problem) so she doubles down. "So I can ask you on a date," she says. "I think we should go out sometime."

"You think so?" Reagan asks and there's just enough of a smile on her face _and_ in her words that Amy knows she's not the only one thinking it. Reagan nods once and holds out her hand expectantly. "Phone?"

Amy digs her cell out of her tiny purse at something approaching the speed of light and hands it to Reagan who deftly enters her name and number one handed. She slips it back into Amy's purse and snaps it shut.

"Give me a call," Reagan says and she heads back out, leaving Amy standing there in the Booker's storage room, totally confused as to what the hell just happened and even more confused about who to talk to about it since Shane and Karma are both not speaking to her.

And most of that slips from her mind the moment she hears the door open behind her and turns just in time to see Reagan almost running back in and _all_ of that absolutely _vanishes_ from her mind when the other girl cradles her cheeks in her hands and kisses her.

It's softer than the kiss ( _kisses_ ) with Karma and _so_ much better than the one (the _only_ one) with Rachel and that spark that wasn't there with Karma?

It's not there with Reagan either. There's no spark.

It's a fire. An inferno. A conflagration, a napalm blast on top of TNT on top of C-4 on top of the big fucking bang and _oh my God_ this is a _kiss._

Reagan pulls back, biting her lip nervously and staring at Amy. "I… um… in case you were thinking about not calling or, you know, might have maybe chickened out -"

Amy cuts her off with another kiss (and what is it about her and kissing girls in mid-sentence?) and it doesn't last as long as the first because there's a commotion in the hall and Reagan pulls back so as to not get caught making out with a guest.

"I guess that means you'll call?" she asks and Amy nods. "Cool." There's more noise in the hall and Reagan heads for the door. "I'll talk to you soon, Shrimp Girl."

Amy nods even though Reagan's already out the door and she just stands there for a minute, grinning to herself.

The party she never wanted to go to got her a tummy full of shrimp, a date, and two kisses.

Booker parties rule.


	3. Leah

The fourth time Amy kisses a girl, it changes everything.

She's twenty by then, a junior in college with a small one bedroom apartment just off campus. It's her first time living alone, though she sometimes makes the argument that she lived alone for years before Lauren came along (and even some time _after_ that). But alone is merely a technicality for Amy. She's not _really_ alone.

She's got Reagan.

Her girlfriend spends at least three nights a week at Amy's apartment, even though Reagan's place is actually bigger. She's got her own chair at the tiny kitchen table, her own spot on the couch, her own side of the bed, and two year's of Amy's life.

Not that Amy's counting, but it's serious and she knows it. _Everyone_ knows it. Shane hums the wedding march every time he sees them walk in together, Karma's started asking thinly veiled questions and dropping hints at Liam about 'winning the race' (because only Karma would think of marriage as competition) and even Amy's mother has dropped the grandkids question.

Amy nearly choked on her dinner and even Reagan went a little pale for that one.

It _is_ serious though and Amy's well aware of that. She's even recently started ring shopping with Lauren ("That's what you do, right? After two _years_?"). She knows her step-sister is an odd choice, but Lauren's taste is neither gaudy (see Shane) or 'ooooh, shiny!' (see Karma) and Amy knows the tiny blonde can keep a secret better than either of the other two.

Kissing another girl is not part of Amy's plan, not even a little. Not even in the backest back corner of her mind. Kissing is cheating and cheating _isn't_ Amy.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't… wonder.

"How do you know?" she asks Karma. 'Asks' is probably generous. It's a blurt, shoved out around a mouthful of burrito as she and Karma and Lauren ( _so_ begrudgingly and _only_ because she and Amy are hitting a jewelry store right after) have lunch together.

"How do you know?" Amy asks again, without the burrito and with a _little_ less blurt. "How do you know _he_ 's the one?"

She still can't say his (Liam) name too often and they still aren't any better friends than they were the day of his party even though Amy knows she has him to thank for Reagan and he _is_ the man Karma insists (at least every other day) is _the one_.

Every time she says it, Amy hears it just like that. _The one_. All that's missing is the dramatic background music and that guy from the movie previews doing voice over.

"Amy, I've told you," Karma says. "If you're going to keep bad mouthing Liam…"

She trails off and lets it die there because it's a hollow threat and they all know it and she can't _really_ say 'if you're going to keep bad mouthing Liam, I'm just going to put up with it cause you're my best friend and we both know I'd choose you over him in the end.'

It lacks a little in the punch department.

"I don't mean it like that," Amy says (and she doesn't, not _this time_ ). "I mean, you're so sure and you've only been together like what? A year? But you know. You _know_."

Karma eyes her across the table (but it's Lauren's side eye from next to her that unnerves Amy, like her sister knows something but that's just ridiculous cause _Amy_ doesn't know _something_ , and the something she _doesn't_ know include why she even asked in the first place.)

"Amy," Karma says gently as she reaches across the table and covers Amy's hand with her own and Amy immediately regrets ever speaking (and not just because Karma's holding her _eating_ hand). "Are you having second thoughts about this thing with Reagan? Because I would _totally_ get that if you were. Honestly, I've never thought -"

"We _know_ what you've never thought, Karma," Lauren snaps. " _That_ list is long and varied."

Karma glares and Amy bites her lip to keep from laughing and then nods when Lauren calls for the check and says she'll meet her at the car. She and Karma head out for their big goodbye moment, because every goodbye with Karma is a _moment_ , but also because the redhead is leaving for a week long getaway with the Bookers.

And if Amy thinks 'get away' is something you should do _from_ the Bookers and not _with_ them, well, she's probably not wrong.

Karma hugs her in the parking lot, squeezing her tightly, almost clutching at her, like she's worried she's never going to see Amy again. "I'll be back in a week," she says and Amy nods against her shoulder. "And I'll miss you the whole time," she says and Amy can feel the tears rolling onto her own shoulder and _for fuck's sake_ …

"It'll be fine, Karms," she says, looking over her best friend's shoulder at Lauren, eyes pleading.

 _Help me_ , those eyes say. _Save me_. But Lauren's got that look on her face again, the one Amy's come to know means she's annoyed (a step up from her usual 'irritated') and Amy's a little worried it's not _Karma_ that look's meant for.

Karma tips her head back but doesn't let go. "Maybe I should stay," she says. "If you're having trouble or you're upset or you're confused, maybe I shouldn't go."

"You should go," Lauren says. "And make it two weeks, maybe. A month? A year?" She thinks for a moment and then nods. "Yeah, a year would be good."

Amy pulls Karma back into the hug to distract her and glares at Lauren. "I'm fine, Karma. Nothing to worry about," she says. "Go. Have fun. Tell him I said...Go. Have fun."

It takes another five minutes, three more hugs (and a 'are you _fucking_ kidding me?' from Lauren about hug number three) but Karma finally leaves and Amy and her sister make their way over to the jewelry store. It's in the same plaza as Burritozone and it's the fourth one they've been to this week. Amy knows the pattern by now.

Lauren looks. Amy watches. Lauren shakes her head. They leave.

It's been working for them so far but Amy's pretty sure that, _eventually_ , she's gonna have to make a choice. About which ring. That's exactly what she was thinking. A choice about which ring. Not about _anything_ else.

She waits until Lauren's bent over the display case before she asks and, like with Karma, she immediately wishes she hadn't.

"You've been with Theo like a year now, right?"

Lauren nods as she peers down at a ring in the case, one that looks the same to Amy as all the others. It's a diamond and Amy hates diamonds but all efforts to convince Lauren to look at something less traditional have fallen on deaf ears.

"Three hundred seventy-two days and counting, " Lauren says. She frowns at the ring and turns her gaze to the next one.

"Right," Amy replies. She tries, briefly, to do the mental math for her and Reagan but there's a reason she's an English / Film Studies major and it's got a lot to do with her total inability to do fuck all with numbers. "But you still… you know… _look_ at other guys. LIke check them out?"

Lauren asks to see one of the rings, a particularly big one (at least it seems that way to Amy _and_ her bank account). "I'm in a relationship, Amy, not dead. Of course I look. Everyone does."

Amy nods and seems satisfied. Or not. "You ever… you know… think about it?"

Lauren puts the one ring back and moves on to a slightly smaller one. "Think about what?"

"What it might be like," Amy says before she can stop herself. "You know… with one of them."

Lauren keeps leaning over the case but she turns her head to look at Amy. There's about a thousand things ( _thoughts_ ) running through her eyes (shock, confusion, maybe a hint of anger) but Amy only sees one.

 _Why the fuck am I looking at rings if you're thinking about_ that?

Amy fidgets in place, unable to keep eye contact with the smaller girl and _fuck all_ would Lauren kick ass at staring contests.

"Are you not happy?" Lauren asks.

"What?" Amy answers. "Of course I'm happy. I love Reagan. She's perfect." Lauren doesn't move. Not her body, not her eyes and Amy's not even sure she's breathing."I mean it," Amy says. "Reagan's perfect, _we're_ perfect." Lauren stays still. "I love her, OK? And I'm here, right? Looking for rings so you can stop with the staring and the judgey eyes and all that, OK?"

Lauren arches a brow but says nothing.

"You can love someone and still wonder, you know." Amy says. "Wondering doesn't mean anything. You said it yourself. Everyone does it."

Lauren straightens up and hands the ring back to the clerk. "I said everyone _looks_."

"Looks, wonders, same difference," Amy says even though she knows it's not the same difference _at all_. "Everyone does it," she says. "Everyone wonders what it might be like with someone else, especially, you know, people who've never been with anyone else"

Lauren thanks the nice man behind the counter for his time, picks up her purse and turns to leave.

"Wait," Amy says. "Where are you going? Are we done? We didn't find the right one yet?"

Lauren pauses in the door. "Apparently not."

* * *

The fourth time Amy kisses a girl she doesn't mean to but she's got Lauren's words ringing in her ears and maybe she doesn't _mean_ to, but she _wants_ to and, really, that's the whole fucking problem.

Her name is Leah and she's a blonde. Like a _blonde,_ the kind of blonde Amy thought only existed in movies and it's her hair that catches Amy's eye first. They strike up a conversation or two in class and after the hair Amy notices that Leah laughs at her jokes (even the ones Amy knows, categorically, _aren't_ funny) and is always putting a hand on her arm or her leg, and makes a point of sitting next to Amy whenever a bunch of them go out for lunch after class.

Amy's pretty sure _that's_ flirting, though after two years she knows she's woefully out of practice and let's face it, she was never really _in_ practice, not even before Reagan.

Leah, Amy learns, is also twenty and also a junior. She's a Modern Languages major and taking the American Cinema class they share as an elective. "I love movies and I'm American," she says, "so I figured what the hell, right?"

Amy laughs and nods and thinks Leah would be so much more attractive if she didn't speak, but then that turns out to be not true either (that's the first _and_ last dumb thing she says) and Amy finds herself looking more and more forward to American Cinema, even though it's at nine thirty in the morning and she's _frequently_ up late with Reagan doing… things… the night before.

So when it comes time to pair up for the course project and Leah smiles at her across the classroom and Amy nods (not enthusiastically though cause out of practice or not, she knows better than _that_ ), it's settled. They're partners.

And if the fact that Amy _wants_ to be partners a little more than she thinks she _should_ goes ignored? Yeah… that won't end well.

Still, partners or not, _want_ or not (definitely _want,_ definitely _not_ not), kissing Leah isn't a thought the occurs to Amy. It's not an idea she considers or debates or ponders or plans. A little flirting is fine, a little crushing (maybe) is OK. The occasional daydream (or night dream and maybe not so _occasional_ ) is alright, especially if she makes it up to Reagan very enthusiastically (and especially if Reagan never knows there's anything to be made up for).

That's all fine. That's all dandy. Kissing? Kissing is a no no. Kissing is _not_ ok, _not_ fine, _not_ fucking dandy. And so Amy never even thinks of it. Right up until she does it.

They're working on the project, some convoluted thing that involved finding the ways books that were made into movies were changed (other than being made _better_ ) and why those changes were made. OK… so maybe _not_ so convoluted, but Amy was still confused about the whole thing and that confusion was _entirely_ about the project and had _nothing_ to do with the way being around Leah was making her tummy do flip flops and making other parts of her… react.

Amy makes it through _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_ , the first Harry Potter movie, and halfway through _Catching Fire_ before it happens. There's pages of notes scrawled on loose leaf paper in front of them on Amy's bed (on _her_ side), alongside copies of each of the novels with tiny little post-it note flags on key pages, and a box of doughnuts (six gone).

It's a powdered one that does it and thankfully _not_ a jelly filled because that would be too fucking weird (and _really?_ Jelly? _That's_ what would make it weird?) Leah's just eaten the last one and there's a thin layer of white sugar across her top lip, like a doughnut milk mustache and it is, objectively, adorable. It would be cute to anyone, not just Amy. It's the sort of thing that when someone (Leah) who's already flat out gorgeous (ask _anyone_ ), looks at someone (Amy) who is already wrestling with the _reactions_ just being near her is causing, there's no way, just _no_ fucking way that she (Amy) can't kiss her (Leah).

No way, that is, unless she (Amy) considers the relationship she's already in or the fact that she doesn't know (not for _sure_ ) if Leah is even into girls or the fact that kissing a girl because she smiles at you with doughnut sugar on her lips is the most ridiculous excuse for doing that you've been wanting to do all night (and for the last month) even if you've _refused_ to think about it till right fucking now.

But all that aside...

Amy doesn't even know she's doing it until she is, until her lips are pressed against Leah's and she's tasting raspberry lip gloss and doughnut sugar. It's a good kiss, it really is. Soft and sweet and not just from the fruit and sugar. And parts of Amy _do_ react.

Just not like they should.

Amy knows enough about how this works to know what she _should_ be feeling. There should be guilt (and there is, there _so_ is) but there should be a thrill too. A sense of danger and doing something she shouldn't and that should _add_ to it, not make it worse. There should be something that overrides all her common sense and responsibility and feelings (love, fucking _love_ ) for Reagan and makes it impossible for her to stop kissing Leah even though she knows she should.

She should _react_ and not just a little, not just the same 'it's nice, we should do it again for a bit cause we've got nothing better to do' reaction she had with Karma. Amy knows she should be excited and unable to control herself, unable to get enough of Leah, or else she's throwing the last two years away for…

Nothing.

And _that's_ what there is. Nothing. Nothing except nausea and pain and an overwhelming sense of 'oh fuck, what have I done'.

Amy breaks the kiss and she's barely able to look at Leah or see the stunned look on the other girl's face. "You should go," Amy says, even though she's the one jumping off the bed. "We've got enough for the project and we can figure out the rest later and… and…"

And she can drop the class or drop out of school or live alone in Farrah's basement for the rest of her life because she had _the one_ , the perfect girl and she threw it all away.

"I'm sorry," Amy stammers and then she bolts, not caring that it's her own apartment she's leaving or that she doesn't know what Leah thinks of the kiss. All Amy can think about is not being _there_ (where she did _it_ ) ever again.

* * *

It's Lauren who finds her, curled up next to her bed in her old room.

It doesn't take Lauren long to figure out where Amy's hiding once she gets the call from Reagan, the one where the older girl manages (through sobs and hiccups and hiccupping sobs) to tell her that Amy broke up with her.

"She said she cheated," Reagan cried. "She said she doesn't love me and she never did and I don't believe her, but you didn't hear her, Lauren. She sounded so _broken_."

Standing there at the end of Amy's old bed, Lauren has to admit that broken fits how she _looks_ too.

Lauren sinks down onto the floor next to Amy and rests a hand on her sister's leg (comforting gestures are _not_ her specialty). "What can I do?" she asks. "Do you want me to call Karma?"

Amy shakes her head. "No," she says. The _last_ thing she needs right now is the Ashcroft 'chase those blues away' special.

"OK," Lauren says. She stays there, silently and idly rubbing her hand along Amy's leg and totally not wondering how long one is supposed to comfort in these situations.

"I screwed up," Amy says softly, though she's sure Lauren already knows since she's there. "I kissed Leah."

Lauren resists the urge to ask who the _fuck_ Leah is because she knows _that's_ the least important bit of the entire equation. "Is that all?" she asks.

Amy nods. "One kiss," she says. "Like ten seconds and I didn't even… it was good but there was… nothing. It was like kissing Karma."

Lauren nods, thankful she has no idea what kissing Karma (or, apparently, Leah) is like. "You told Reagan you cheated."

"I did," Amy says. "I kissed another girl."

"One kiss does not a cheater…" Lauren trails off, imagining what she would feel like if Theo confessed to _just_ one kiss. "Yeah," she says. "You cheated. But you also decided it was irreparable. You didn't even give Reagan a chance."

Amy pulls her knees to her chest. "There's no point," she says. "It doesn't matter if Reagan can get over it."

"Why not?"

"Because _I_ can't." She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. "And I don't mean the cheating. I mean the 'want to'. I _wanted_ to kiss Leah. I wanted to taste her lips and I wanted to feel her hands on my hips, pulling me closer and I wanted…"

Lauren stays still, like in the jewelry store, but this time there's no judgment.

"It didn't even have to be _her_ ," Amy says. "She was convenient. It could have been anyone, as long as it _wasn't_ Reagan."

"Do you love Reagan?" Lauren asks.

Amy nods. "Yes. So very much." She stands up and moves to her coat, tossed against the dresser. She reaches into the pocket and pulls out a tiny velvet box and Lauren's heart fills and drops all at once. "I bought this, after the last time we went shopping. I went back in and asked for the one you'd been eyeing." She hands Lauren the box. "The big one. Wiped out most of my savings."

Lauren looks down a the box in her hands, still unopened.

"That was _yesterday_ ," Amy says. "And today I kissed another girl and hated it, but I did it. _I_ did it. And if I can do that, if I can _want_ to do that…" She leans against the dresser. "I love her. I do. But she's been my first… everything. And I just don't think I'm ready for her to be…"

"Your last," Lauren says softly and Amy crumples in front of her, sobbing. Lauren scoots across the floor and wraps her arms around her sister, instinct overriding her usual lack of empathy.

In a few minutes, Lauren will tuck Amy into her childhood bed and leave her to sleep. She'll call Reagan and tell her that Amy's OK (or will be) and that maybe next week she'll be ready to talk about it (doubtful). And tomorrow, she'll take the ring back to the jeweler and she doubts it will take much explanation to return it.

But for now… for _now_ , she just holds her sister. Lauren knows she could tell Amy it will be OK, that there will be other firsts. Other first dates, other first kisses, other first times. But she also knows all that would fall on deaf ears and a deafer heart. Because Reagan wasn't _just_ those things.

She was a first love.

And nothing feels as good when it happens.

Or hurts as much when it ends.


	4. Oliver

The first time Amy kisses a boy it rocks her world.

It's not really the first time, not if you count Jason Standish in the fourth grade during library time. _That_ was a dare (thank you, Shane) and it didn't end well, at least not for Jason. During the kiss (which was as short and as unpleasant as he was) he put his tiny fourth grade hand on her fourth grade butt so Amy put her fourth grade shoe in his fourth grade balls.

So she _really_ doesn't count that one.

The one she _does_ count happens five months, three weeks, two days, and some odd number of hours after she ends things with Reagan, officially.

And by 'officially' she totally means having Shane and Karma and Lauren (and briefly Liam, though probably not briefly enough for either of their tastes) pack up all the things Reagan left at the apartment and drive them away. It left her apartment surprisingly ( _frighteningly)_ empty and she's never been quite sure if Shane actually returned everything or gave it all to Goodwill or sold it all out of the back of his mom's station wagon.

Reagan's never called looking for it, so Amy figured it didn't matter. Five months later and Reagan's _never_ called at all, so now Amy _knows_ it doesn't. And she's fine with that. Really, she is. So fine she tells _everyone_ she's fine with it at least once a week and they all ( _almost all_ ) believe her because they _want_ her to be fine and that's good enough for them.

She _wasn't_ fine, not at first. At first she wasn't OK with _anything_ or _anyone_ , but mostly herself. She spent most of the first two months, three weeks, and three days being anything _but_ OK. Most of that time (read: _all_ of that time) she spent staying as busy as she could which mostly meant avoiding anywhere she and Reagan went together (which was a depressingly large hunk of town) and studiously avoiding Leah.

Amy did her part of the project and stood in front of the rest of the American Cinema class next to the blonde (who wasn't as pretty or as interesting or as sexy as Amy remembers and somehow that only makes it _worse_ ) presenting their work. But then she moved quickly back to her seat, avoided eye contact, and set something close to a land speed record bolting from the classroom.

Leah didn't call either and when Amy saw her on campus (month three, week three, day six) at a Cinema Club event holding hands with one of the guys from Liam's frat (and _of course_ he's in a frat), she kinda figured out why.

Shane, to his credit, didn't say much when he found her just outside the library, crying into a plastic cup of some overly fruity punch. Amy's never quite sure if he knows her well enough or just has a rare (for him) moment of insight and knows she's not really crying _over_ Leah.

"A straight girl, she sobbed. "I ruined it all for a _straight_ girl."

And though they both know Leah really had little or nothing ( _so_ nothing) to do with Amy ruining anything (she was, as Lauren put it, "lips of convenience") or even with the tears she was crying, Shane sat next to her and rubbed her back and let her cry.

"You never know," he said. "She could be bi."

In the moments after that first kiss with a boy (the first one she _counts_ ) it'll be those words Amy remembers. She could be bi.

In all honesty? It's those words that ring in Amy's head for most of the next two months. She could be bi, she could be bi, she could be bi, over and over and over, until it _finally_ hits her that she doesn't hear _she_.

She hears _I._ I could be bi. She hears 'I' because, well, she could. And she's done _so_ well with girls (Karma and (ugh) Rachel and Reagan) that maybe, Amy thinks, it's a sign. Maybe it's someone or something trying to steer her.

"Just because I've only _been_ with girls doesn't mean I can only _be_ with girls," she says, to _him_ of all people, on their once a month forced group outing. Shane's off eye fucking some guy at the bar and Karma and Lauren are in the bathroom and Amy blurts it out (she senses something of a pattern here) but only because she can't _not_ anymore and because he's the only one _there_ and she feels oddly safe telling him.

Because, really, what's he gonna do?

"It's possible," she says, defending herself against the objections he hasn't raised. "There's nothing to say it's not."

"There's nothing to say what's not?" Karma asks, sliding back into her chair which is, if you ask Amy, _way_ too close to _his_ (like in his lap close and yes, they've been together almost a year and a half and he's been _nothing_ but good to her but he's still _him_ ).

"Amy thinks she's bi," Liam says and, clearly, _that's_ what he's gonna do.

Karma eyes her across the table and Amy knows _that_ look. She knows Karma has a huge test in Psychology on Monday and she knows her best friend is just itching to play Dr. Phyllis for a bit.

"You've never even _looked_ at a guy," she says.

Amy considers mentioning Jason Standish but fourth grade was _fourth grade_ and there was the whole shoe in the balls bit and that kinda makes it less than the best defense.

"That's not the point," she says (even though, she knows, it _kinda_ is). "There's no percentage rule," she argues. "There's no requirements or schedules. I can be bi without liking girls on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and only liking guys on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Saturday."

"You forgot Sundays," _he_ says and then flinches as Karma kicks him under the table. "What?" he asks, rolling his eyes. "She _did_."

"She did what?" Lauren asks and, _seriously_ , did they _plan_ this?

"Amy's decided she's bi," Karma says (and Amy resists the urge to point out that it's not a _decision_ and she never said she _was_ just that she _might be_ ). "Even though she's never so much as looked at a guy and every time she sees Liam kiss me her face does that thing, yes, _that_ thing," she says (pointing at Amy), "that thing _you're doing right now_."

"That _thing,"_ Lauren says, "has _nothing_ to do with the hetero PDA and _everything_ to do with the hetero _doing_ the PDA." She glances over at Amy. "Bi?"

Amy shrugs. "Maybe," she says. "I could be."

"You've never even loo -"

Amy cuts Karma off. " _That_ doesn't mean I wouldn't like it," she says. "And what's your problem? You thought _you_ were bi when we met."

"That hasn't happened in ages," Karma says (and _no_ , she's not counting how the one time she accidentally saw Reagan naked made her… _feel_ … because that wasn't being bi. That was just having eyes.) "I think it's cleared up and _not a fucking word_ , Lauren."

Lauren stays quiet and doesn't make a single Liam and rashes and they make ointments for that kinda thing joke (but her silence doesn't mean she isn't _thinking_ it). She looks at Amy again and her sister braces herself for the inevitable lecture.

"Huh," Lauren says. "Bi."

Amy nods. "Maybe," she says.

"Well," Lauren says (and Karma's eyes grow wide and she grips Liam's knee under the table and Liam winces, _again_ ). "Maybe isn't definitely and the only way to know for sure is to try, right?"

"Try what?" Shane says, dropping down into his chair and _really_? _Again?_

"Amy thinks she's bi, or might be," Lauren says. "Karma is freaking out about it, probably because of her own residual bi issues, like that time she saw Reagan naked." Karma blushes and hides her head in her hands. "And Liam is…" Lauren waves her hand dismissively. "He's _Liam_."

Shane nods. "Makes sense," he says, pointedly ignoring the glare that Karma looks up to give him. " _Everyone_ tries it. Even I kissed a girl once."

Every eye at the table turns his direction _except_ Liam's. "She was your sister, Shane and it was on the cheek and I got further with her than you did and _fuck_ , Karma, stop kicking me!"

Amy laughs and Karma fumes and Lauren and Shane talk quietly for a moment. "So," Lauren says, "there's this guy in my drama class." Shane holds up a hand, cutting off Karma's immediate protests and Lauren rolls on. "I think you'd like him. He's geeky as hell, a total introvert, and he spends most of class making these adorable, though oddly frightening, origami cranes."

"Sounds good," Amy says though it sounds, more than anything, fucking terrifying. But she didn't ruin things with Reagan for safe.

She _had_ that.

"Amy -" Karma tries, but Amy shakes her head.

"If I'm going to try this, Karma, he sounds like a good match," she says. "He's interested in drama, I'm into film. He's a geek, I'm the Geek Queen. He's an introvert and they don't get much more introverted than me. He makes birds out of paper… I've… _used_ paper."

She nods once, for emphasis (or to convince herself that wasn't the most ridiculous thing she's ever said, she's really not sure which).

"I'll set it up," Lauren says and she smiles and Liam (out of everyone) is the only one to recognize _that_ smile and he could, if he felt like it, explain it to Karma but he's already going to spend the rest of the day walking with a limp so _fuck that_.

And when Karma corners Lauren on their way out of the bar and demands that she _not_ do this because Amy is _clearly_ not bi and this will _clearly_ not end well, Lauren just smiles at her.

"Just wait," she says. "Just wait."

* * *

The first time Amy kisses a boy his name is Oliver and it changes everything.

All by not changing a thing.

Their first date (and it's been two-plus-years since Amy's had one of _those_ ) turns into a group hang (copyright Shane Harvey 2016) because, Amy reasons, it will make it easier on both of them.

"Less pressure," she says to Karma. "More comfortable," she says to Shane. "One on one is _way_ more nerve wracking," she says to Lauren.

 _Do_ you _have to be there_ she _doesn't_ say to Liam but she _totally_ thinks it.

Of course, he _does_ have to be there and Shane brings his new fella (ironically, a bi guy from his Western Civilizations class who's about as bland as the course and Amy gives _that_ about two weeks) and Lauren brings Theo (because nothing will put the introverted geek at ease like a giant hunk of six-packed sexual chocolate).

They go to (another) Cinema Club event, a special screening of _Pulp Fiction_ and when Oliver shows up (right on time, so points for _that_ ) in a _Reservoir Dogs_ tee shirt (and _more_ points, _totes_ points, _all the fucking points_ for _that_ ), Amy thinks maybe, just _maybe_ , Lauren did good.

Karma sees Amy and sees the shirt and sees the look in her best friend's eye and pulls Lauren aside but the tiny blonde shushes her. "Just wait," she says, _again_. "Just wait."

And so Karma does, and so does Amy.

She waits through the movie ( she and Oliver sit next to each other and whisper conspiratorially about camera angles and narrative devices and Lauren sits behind them with a tiny smile on her face).

She waits through the walk to the diner afterward (she and Oliver drift along behind the rest and he talks - surprisingly excitedly - about the movie and Tarantino and his appropriation of different movie genres for his own stylistic purposes and when his hand brushes against hers, Amy takes it and he only falters for a second).

Lauren's smile gets just a tiny bit bigger.

And she waits through the meal with its greasy burgers and cheese covered fries and the way Oliver clumsily drips hot cheese sauce down his chin and she wipes it away with a napkin and he smiles at her and she waits.

Waits for her heart to skip a beat. Waits for her breath to come in a rush. Waits for her pulse to quicken and her palms to sweat and for her mind to wander and wonder what it would be like to kiss him and hold him and feel him over her and under her and all around her.

Amy waits.

And when the check comes and Liam and Shane fight over it (and Theo slips it out from under both of them and pays it while they're arguing) and Karma looks between her and Oliver and even her eyes seem less judgmental and more (maybe) happy for her best friend and Lauren's smile is as big as it's been all night, Amy feels Oliver slip his hand over hers under the table and she lets him lace their fingers together and nods quickly when he asks if he can walk her home.

And she waits.

She waits as they all say their goodnights and all through the walk back to her place and right up until they're standing just outside her building. She waits as he fumbles through telling her what a good time he had and how much he'd like to do it again and how he hopes she had a good time too and how he -

She doesn't know what else he was going to say because _that's_ the moment Amy can't wait anymore and she takes his face between her hands and kisses him.

And she waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And she'd probably still be standing there, her lips against his, his cheeks flushed and hot against her palms, the feel of his heart racing in his chest vibrating against hers. She'd probably still be waiting.

If she didn't _know_.

Amy pulls back, breaking the kiss and letting her hands fall to her sides, her eyes looking everywhere (everywhere _but_ at _him_ ) and she knows, she _so_ fucking _knows_.

"Woah," Oliver says.

"I _know_ ," Amy says. And he takes it _so_ the wrong way but she's not worried about that, she's not even _thinking_ about that. She's too busy reeling from the rocking her world just took, from the sudden and irrefutable proof that was that kiss.

Amy hears those words again. She could be bi. And, maybe, if 'she' is Leah and if 'she' is someone else ( _anyone_ else) and _not_ her, then _maybe_. Because she (read: Amy) is so, without any doubt, _not_.

Not bi. Not into Oliver ( _that_ way). And not even remotely ready to kiss _anyone_ because all she can think is how _that_ kiss was so not _the_ kiss and how _the_ kiss was totally every one she ever shared with _Reagan_ and suddenly she can't be there anymore.

She doesn't hear Oliver calling after her as she bolts up the stairs to her building, doesn't hear his worried 'everything OK?' as she races through the door and up the two flights to her apartment, doesn't hear the buzzing of her cell or the voicemail Karma leaves her ('So I was wrong and Oliver seems… nice… and if that's what you want…').

Amy makes it through the door before she crumples, sliding to the floor as the tears come and then Lauren's there (and _that's_ why you _always_ give your sister your spare key), holding her and rubbing her back.

"I'm not," Amy sputters. "I'm not bi."

"I know," Lauren says. She's kneeling next to her and Amy tucks her head under Lauren's chin and cries.

"I'm not…" she sobs. "I'm not… Reagan… I thought I was… I'm not…what am I gonna do?"

Lauren nods and holds her closer. "Just wait," she says softly. "That's all. Just wait."


	5. Maya and The Croquembouche

The fifth time Amy kisses a girl is the _next_ to last time but it takes her a while to get there.

A _long_ while and it's not _really_ the fifth time, but it's the most _important_ one and so she decides not to count the ones that came before it, the ones _after_ Oliver because those, _obviously_ , were just practice, just killing time.

It's totally Amy logic but it's sorta right too.

She's twenty-eight by then, a college graduate working for a small film company just outside Dallas. She hasn't seen Oliver since that night outside her apartment but she and Reagan patched things up, as best they could, and managed to even be friends, of a sort. Last summer she even went to Reagan's wedding (with Shane as her date) and she only cried a little. At least where anyone could see. In the car, on the way home…

They don't talk about that. And even Shane, who usually doesn't think 'don talk about it' applies to him, doesn't bring it up. Ever.

But that was then and this is now and Amy's over it, she really is (and not just in the she tells everyone that hoping they won't listen to her way she did with Reagan and the break up). She knows it's for the best and she saw how happy Reagan and Paula were and she saw a light in her ex's eyes that she knows she never put there.

And when Shane asked her why she was crying if she knew Reagan was happy all Amy could think, all she could _wonder_ was if she'd _ever_ do that for someone. If she'd ever make someone's eyes light up across a crowded room just by being her.

It certainly wasn't any of the… eyes… that had come along since Reagan (and she _always_ thinks of it as 'since Reagan' and _never_ 'since Oliver' because… _no_ ). There was Becky. And Lisette. And Randi and Mandi (and Sandy, too, but not with an 'i'). There was that brief (and _so_ very ill advised) thing with Shane's sister Sasha who had turned out to be _such_ a _liar_ and then there was that even briefer (and _more_ ill advised, if that's possible) momentary lapse in sanity with Vashti at the Hester reunion.

"Vashti?" Karma said. "Vashti." She kept repeating it, like saying it over and over again was somehow going to make it… well, she didn't know what, but seriously… " _Vashti_?"

Amy shook her head. "It's the school," she said. "It made me all… teenagery… and since I never got any _during_ high school…"

"You thought getting some _in_ the high school would suffice," Liam said. "Solid logic. Well played." Karma glared at him and Liam shrugged and Amy, for the briefest of brief moments, actually kinda liked him. Plus, in Amy's defense, Vashti had aged _well_ and really, who _hadn't_ fantasized about moaning through a really impressive orgasm behind Penelope's desk.

And another one _on_ it.

None of them (the 'eyes', not the orgasms) lasted more than a month, two tops (some even less than that, _obviously_ ) and though Amy says she's fine with that too, none of them really believes her.

"She's miserable," Shane says. "All these short flings and cheap hookups. It's not her. She's turned into…. into... _me_."

"You can see it every time," Karma says. "Every first date, she gets that look on her face, like she's hopeful and terrified all at once. And then she goes and does something… _Amy_ … and they either never call again _or_ she fucks them and _then_ they never call again."

"Love sucks," Lauren says (three months into her own post-Theo, that cheating _fucker_ , dry spell). "She's better off alone."

"She'll be fine," Liam says (over and over and _over_ cause _Karma_ ). "There's someone for everyone and she'll find her," he says. "Probably when she least expects it and probably in the most ridiculous place and _yes_ , I'm being serious and _no_ , Karma, we are not fixing her up _again_."

And Liam was true to his word. Sort of.

Her name, Miss Least Expect It, is Maya and she's a wedding planner and Amy hates her from the start. And that has absolutely _nothing_ (read: _everything,_ every single fucking thing, starting with the groom and ending with… _the groom_ ) to do with the wedding she's planning.

"She's my wedding planner," Karma says on the way to a cake tasting. "And yes, I need a wedding planner, I'm marrying a _Booker_ and yes, tasting the cakes is important and you've already met her twice and _no_ , we cannot just serve doughnuts and hot fudge and can you _please_ try to be nice this time?"

Amy nods (with her fingers crossed) and glares at Liam from the back seat and promises herself that she won't ruin this for Karma anymore than _he_ will and since she's marrying _him_ it's pretty much already ruined so, really, how much damage can she possibly do?

It's the fourth cake tasting _that week_ (the Bookers believe in being thorough and Amy's seen the budget for the wedding and for that kind of money she really can't blame them) and Karma's invited them all along so at least Amy has Lauren (when she's not moping in a corner or Facebook stalking Theo on her phone) and Shane (when he's not hitting on Maya's _very_ straight but 'only because he hasn't met _me_ yet' assistant) to keep her company.

So, basically, she's flying solo. Story of her fucking life and she hopes, at least, one of the cute Booker cousins Karma's chosen as bridesmaids (she has _10_ ) are there so at least she'll have something to look at.

And she does mean _look_ and definitely not _touch_ because Karma's already declared them all off limits (like that would stop her) but she _really_ doesn't _want_ to ruin things for Karma and besides, every last one of those cute ( _very_ cute and Amy refuses to think it has anything to do with genetics) has one very unfortunate thing in common.

They're all _Bookers_. And if there's one thing Amy will never, ever do? It's a Booker.

So she plans to behave and make the best of things and, at least. mock the cake (and maybe Liam) with Shane and Lauren (if she gets off her phone for even thirty seconds) but it takes Maya all of five minutes to start annoying her which, Amy guesses, puts her at least three minutes slower than Liam, so there's that.

"You could look a little happier to be here," Maya scolds her. "Like, you know, _at all_."

Amy arches an eyebrow (and no, she hasn't gotten _any_ better at that) in the woman's general direction. "I _could_ ," she says with a shrug as she returns to poking the tiny (like the size of her thumb and that's so not a _piece_ ) piece of cake on her tiny (barely bigger than the so-called piece) plate. Between having to triple check that there's no nuts in anything she tastes (and yes, Shane has made _that_ joke about a thousand times and that's just _today_ ), listening to Lauren's repetitive dirge on the evils of love, and being around _him_ , Amy's had just about enough of it all.

Especially Maya who, it seems, has nothing better to do than follow her _everywhere_.

"Don't you have some… planning to do?" she asks, dropping her tiny (and now empty) plate back on the table. "Or some flowers to arrange or an ice sculpture to sculpt or... _something_?"

"The florists will handle the flowers, once Karma picks them out," Maya says. "And the sculptor, once Karma chooses one, will do the sculpting and since we're still six months out from the wedding, it might be a good idea if he didn't get on that _right away_."

Shane snorts from behind Amy and she glares at him. "You're replaceable, you know," she says to him. "I've already got another best friend."

"Yes, you do," Maya says and Amy swivels the glare to her. "But if you replace Shane? Then you replace the Best _Man_. And if you replace the Best Man?"

Shane chimes in. "Then it's one of Liam's frat bros, you know, Brock, Jacque, Rock, or… Lewis… walking you down the aisle."

"Fine," Amy mutters. "So _you_ ," she says, pointing at Shane, "aren't getting replaced. And _you,"_ she snarls at Maya, "aren't going to arrange or sculpt or, clearly, get us any _good_ cake, so what _exactly_ are they overpaying you for?"

Hanging out with Lauren for all these years has had _some_ benefits, training in the snark arts is the least of them.

"The Bookers are _paying_ me for my very specific set of skills," Maya replies.

"So you're Liam Neeson?"

She frowns at Amy and takes Shane's empty plate before he can finish turning it into a paper airplane (because he's, you know, _five_ ). "I'm very good at what I do, Amy, and what I do is make sure that weddings like your _best friend's_ go off without a hitch."

 _That_ Amy gets and _that_ makes all the sense in the world for the Bookers. She was Karma's plus one to the _last_ Booker wedding, the one where Liam's sister (who looked old enough to be his _mother_ but whatever) was supposed to marry some hoity toity type (a State Senator, maybe, Amy forgets mostly cause she doesn't _care_ ) and things went slightly… awry.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Shane says, "not a thing like that other one. I doubt there will be any teenage mistresses showing up at _this_ one. Liam paid off all his baby mamas."

Karma gives him a look of horror, Lauren moans something about 'cheating fuckers', Amy resists (barely) the urge to holler 'I knew it!' and Liam laughs so hard he almost chokes on his tiny cake.

Amy resolves to make him laugh _harder_ next time.

She plucks up another tiny plate with another tiny bit of something she _thinks_ is supposed to be yellow cake but it could just as easily be squished Minion with buttercream frosting and it tastes about as good as she imagines _that_ might.

"I don't understand why no one liked _my_ suggestion," she says. "Doughnuts, ice cream, and hot fudge. Yummy and… well… _yummy_." She jabs at the cake with her fork and frowns. "When I get married, that's _totall_ y what we're having."

"When you get married," Lauren says, "we'll be lucky if you don't hold the reception at Chipotle."

Amy's eyes light up at the thought (though she's not sure they make wedding dresses with bibs and if it's Chipotle she's _totes_ gonna need one or maybe even two, depending on how much extra 'extra sour cream' they give her and it better be _all_ of it cause, hello, _bride_ ) and she's just about to reply when Maya is there ( _again_ ) with a hand on her elbow, gently steering her away from the tasting table.

"Can I _help_ you?" Amy asks, yanking her elbow free.

"Yes," Maya says, calmly as she maneuvers Amy like furniture. "You can stand … here." She glances over Amy's shoulder, eyes flicking between the blonde and the table and she clearly doesn't like what she sees because she takes Amy's arm again. "Actually," Maya says, guiding Amy just a few more steps thataway and then making another quick check. "Yes," she says, " _here_. Here should be fine."

Amy's about to snap her head off, demanding all sorts of things like what the fuck she's talking about and who the fuck she thinks she is and why the fuck Karma is letting this… _planner_ … treat her like this when there's a chorus of 'ooohs; and 'aaaahs' from behind her (and a 'no fucking _way_ ' from Lauren.) She turns to see three men (burly types wearing aprons and poofy hats and covered in sugar and frosting and some kind of glaze, like human doughnuts) bringing out a tray with a… well… a…

"Croquembouche," Lauren whispers and Amy tries (and fails) not to notice that it's the first time since Theo (that cheating bastard) that she's sounded remotely interested in anything (and by interested, Amy totally means like some little demon child from a horror movie whispering ' _croquembouche'_ three times into a mirror.)

There's such a sense of awe in Lauren's voice that Amy has to look at the croak-em-thingy again to make sure it's not coated in edible gold or rocking a tiara or has arms that feed itself to you and no, that last one isn't creepy _at all_. But all it is is a bunch of tiny little balls of dough and Amy's so going to have a field day with _that_.

"A what now?" Shane asks and he's staring at it too with much the same expression he had the first time he saw Amy kiss his sister. A little confusion, a lot of skepticism, and a healthy dash of _what the fuck_.

Lauren tears her eyes from the croakie thing long enough to glare at Shane (like _that's_ new) but Maya is the one who answers. "It's a croquembouche," she says as if repeating the word clears _everything_ up. "It's _the_ dessert of the moment. Jennifer Aniston had two at her wedding, each one twice as tall as this."

Amy mulls it over for a moment, her high school French classes (very) slowly coming back to her. "That's French," she says. " _Croque en bouche_ … it means something… something…" She can _see_ it, it's right there. "Something that does something in the mouth."

Shane and Lauren and Maya and even Liam (but thank _God_ not Karma) all turn to her and Amy can see the wheels going round and round in their minds but it still takes her a second to catch on.

"Not a word," she says, pointing right at Shane. "Not one fucking word." She glares at him for a minute and then "Crunches!" she yells, shooting her hands into the air victoriously. "Something that _crunches_ in the mouth."

Shane frowns. "Crunches?" He shudders. "Babe, I know you're a lesbian, but even for you? If it's _crunching_ , you're so doing it wrong."

Maya runs a hand through her hair and sighs though Amy swears she sees just a hint of a smile as well. "It _is_ French," she says, "and it's very expensive and very delicate and _will you get away from there!_ "

Amy has out maneuvered _her_ this time and gotten right up next to the croquemthingy and while Liam and Karma each take tiny bites from one of it's tiny little balls (and even thinking that makes Amy giggle), she reaches out one finger, gently poking one of said balls, just to see what it feels like.

It's an experiment, kinda like kissing Oliver, and like _that_ one, it goes horribly, horribly wrong.

This, Shane will say later, is the moment above all other moments when everyone _knew_ Amy was gay because she, _clearly_ , has no idea how hard (or not) one should poke tiny balls. If she did, she would have been far more gentle and, maybe, the croquembouche would not have croquem-shuddered and then croquem-broke and all its tiny little balls wouldn't have made for a very _not_ tiny avalanche of caramel covered goodness crashing down on to and off of all over the tasting table _and_ splattering all over Amy, leaving her with croquem-goop in her hair and a look of terror on her face.

Amy stands there, frozen in place, bent over with one finger sticking out, the tiniest bit of croquembouche ball still stuck to the end of it, and she can feel every eye in the place on her but she can't look, she just _can't_. And then Maya is there ( _again)_ and Amy whispers (as if it's not utterly fucking silent in the room) to her. "Do _something_!"

Maya pulls the last bit of croquembouche from Amy's finger and whispers something to the burly men with the tray and something else to Karma and Liam (and Amy still can't look at _them_ , but she can feel them looking at _her_ and for the first time ever she wishes Karma couldn't see her.) And then Maya is leading her to the back of the shop, to the tiny little rest room so she can clean her hair and wash her hands and hope that maybe, by the time she gets back, it will all be better.

But then she sees herself in the mirror with croquembouche chunks in her hair and on her blouse and tiny little flakes of frosting covering her cheeks.

It's not gonna be better, she thinks. Not ever.

"So much for going off without a hitch," she mumbles.

"Hard to do when the maid of honor _is_ the hitch," Maya says. She steps into the barely enough room for _just_ Amy bathroom behind her, pulling paper towels from the dispenser and reaching around Amy to wet them in the sink. "You should start with your hair," she says. "That frosting is a bitch to get out."

Maya hands her the towels and turns and Amy thinks she's going to leave, but instead she leans up against the door and waits, not saying a word, not judging and not commenting and not even giving Amy a ' _what were you thinking_ ' look and Amy's grateful.

She's thinking that enough for both of them.

"You can go," she says to Maya as she starts ineffectually rubbing at the croquembouche staining her hair. "I'm sure you've got a lot to do… you know… fixing my mess."

Maya does look at her then and Amy steadies herself against the sink, waiting for it. Waiting for the inevitable lecture on self-pity and not looking to her to make it all better (like Lauren does) or tell her it will all be OK (like Karma does) or even to say something stupid (Shane) or surprisingly insightful (Liam) and distract from the moment. That's how it works, that's how it _always_ works when Amy fucks something up and she _knows_ that because it's pretty much been an endless loop of _that_ since the moment she kissed Leah.

She watches Maya in the mirror and waits for it.

"You're doing it wrong," Maya says. She pushes off the bathroom door and takes the wet towels from Amy. "If you want to get it out of your hair, you need to _rub_ , not _pat_ and I swear to God, if you say 'that's what she said'..."

Amy doesn't. She stays silent and watches in the mirror as Maya works the croquembouche out of her hair a bit at a time and Amy keeps her eyes on _her_ because then she's not looking at herself and that's the _only_ thing keeping her from crying.

"Thank you," she says softly and Maya pauses for just a second and nods before she keeps working on Amy's hair and they stay there, in that tiny bathroom, until Amy's clean (as clean as she can be). And then they stay a bit more, just silently standing there together until Amy's ready to face them (and by them, they both know she totally means Karma).

And when they leave, Amy tries not to notice Maya's hand on the small of her back or the way the other woman never leaves her side even when Karma's giving her what for (in as calm a voice as Amy's ever heard and not yelling even a little and that somehow makes it _worse_ ) and she _really_ tries to not sneak peeks at Maya the rest of the day but that only manages to make her walk into things (two walls and Shane) or, at least, _more_ things than usual.

But most of all Amy tries not to think of Karma's answer when a _very_ good looking blonde _man_ picks Maya up at the end of the day and Amy asks her best friend (who _is_ speaking to her, but barely), who he is.

"Hmmm?" Karma asks, raising her eyes from the book of floral arrangements she's studying harder than anything she ever did in school. "Oh," she says. "That's her husband."

The _fifth_ time Amy kisses a girl (the fifth one she counts and, eventually, the _only_ one she counts) she's twenty-eight, going to be the maid of honor in Karma's wedding, and husband or not, she knows from the moment Maya touches her hair, it's gonna be her.

It just takes them a while to get there.


	6. Maya and The Date

The first time Amy kisses Maya it's the kind of kiss that makes her weak in the knees and see stars.

It starts with dinner. Karma and Liam and Amy _and_ her date who's a set up because even though Liam swore, Shane _didn't_ and Amy knows his track record but she's lonely and it's been three weeks since the croquemdebacle and she hadn't once gotten Maya out of her mind

(Maya and her _husband)_

Well… _him_ she's gotten out of her mind. She's seen Maya at two more wedding related events (even if she couldn't tell you what either one was for) and she hasn't seen him once, so out of sight out of mind but since she _can't_ stop thinking about Maya and that seems like a pointless non-starter (cause, you know, _married_ which, Amy knows, might not equal _straight_ but does equal _taken_ and that's _worse_ ) when Shane says he knows someone…

 _Amy_ should have known _better_.

Shane, as it turns out, knows Daphne ( _not_ Amy's date.) And Daphne, as it turns out, knows Liza (also _not_ Amy's date.) And Liza knows Megan and Megan knows Rhiannon and Rhiannon knows Bryan (also not and not and _definitely not_ Amy's date.) And Bryan knows Elise and Elise is gay and new in town and (according to Daphne by way of _everyone else_ ) adorable and a film geek and (according to Shane) "just your type."

Amy knows Shane's version of her type is 'likely for her to hook up with' crossed with ' _nothing_ like Karma' with a dash of 'she reminds me vaguely of Reagan' and a pinch of 'she's gay and single, what more do you want?'

At this point, Amy knows, that 'more' she wants is married and possibly not gay and married and Karma would probably kill her for even thinking about it and _married_.

So, Elise it is.

Elise _is_ cute in that 'fresh off the bus and thinks she's gay, cause _girls',_ way that Amy vaguely remembers being once upon a time (somewhere around a swing in Shane's backyard and before a whole _lot_ of shrimp) and she's nice and she laughs at Amy's jokes in the car, and she seems to take an instant dislike to Liam, so she's not the immediate bust most of Shane's fix-ups are.

 _But_ (and there's _always_ a but and Amy knows her biggest _but_ at the moment has nothing to do with who Elise is and everything to do with who she _isn't_ ) fresh of the bus gay is a _long_ way from where Amy's at right now and 'film geek' apparently is the term used for anyone who loves anything with Adam Sandler. And while Amy thinks _Mr. Deeds_ is criminally underrated, she's still sure five minutes into dinner that she and Elise are never gonna last.

And then Maya walks into the restaurant and Amy's not sure Elise is even gonna last through appetizers.

She's possessed. That's the only logical explanation for the way Amy's hand shoots up and the little hops she does in her chair as she waves and the fucking 'yoo hoo' (she _literally_ says 'yoo hoo' and that it actually gets Maya's attention is the only reason she doesn't just fucking _die_ right there) as she calls Maya over to the table.

Possession. It _has_ to be. Some demon taking control of her and making her do its lesbian chasing after married straight girl bidding and earning a glare from Karma, a look of confusion from Elise (which Amy doubts is all that different a look from her resting not-bitch face) and a bemused 'oh, this is gonna be _good'_ grin from Liam.

"Maya, hey!" Amy says ( _exclaims_ and yes, she can _see_ the exclamation point in her head and no, she doesn't feel the least bit of shame over it.) "Fancy meeting you here."

Liam coughs into his napkin and Karma massages her temple with her fingers and Elise… well.. um…

Amy doesn't really notice. Cause, you know, _Maya_.

"Amy," Maya says. "Karma, Liam, and…"

She waits, politely (like, you know, _normal_ people) for Amy to introduce her _date_ , but Maya apparently doesn't understand the first rule of the Amy Raudenfeld seduction process. Ignore anything that might get in the way. Like dates or straightness or _marriage_.

All just details. And Amy _hates_ details. She's an artist (cause film _is_ art even if your art is usually commercials for air fresheners or local theater companies), and she thinks in broad strokes, though Karma and Liam (and _definitely_ Elise) might make the argument that she really doesn't think _at all_.

"It's so good to see you," Amy says, reaching up and resting a hand on Maya's elbow and noting that Maya doesn't make any move to… well… move. "You here on business or pleasure?"

Liam coughs again and Amy considers telling him to get a fucking lozenge but that would distract from Maya so…

"Business," Maya says. "I'm checking out the banquet hall here for a client. It's not quite as lavish as some of the places you two are looking at," she nods at Karma and Liam, "but it's still pretty nice."

"Really?" Amy asks. She drops her hand and turns and, finding the table behind them empty, she reaches over and pulls one of the unused chairs up next to ( _right_ next to) hers. "Have a seat," she says. "Tell us all about it."

There's another cough and Amy's had just about enough of Liam and his fucking throat but this one is Karma, trying to get her attention so she can tip her head discreetly in the general direction of Elise (who, right about now, feels pretty lucky Amy didn't take _her_ chair) but Amy either doesn't get it or doesn't care and she turns her attention back to Maya.

"I'd… uh… love to," Maya says. "But I have to meet my clients at the bar and it looks like you all are here… _together_ … so…" She nods (politely again) at Karma and Liam and Elise. "I'll see y'all later."

She turns to go, not noticing the way Amy's eyes follow her as she walks (and she's the _only_ one who _doesn't_ ) and she barely makes it four steps before Amy's up and out of her chair and calling to her.

"Maya, wait!"

And yes, there's another exclamation point and no, it's not really necessary because _four steps_ , but it's _Amy._

Maya turns to her and Amy's right there ( _right there_ ) and there's this look in her eye Maya doesn't quite know what to do with but it reminds her of the way Amy looked at the croquembouche right before she poked it and Maya can't help smiling just a little.

"I wanted to say… I mean.. that is…" Amy wrings her napkin between her hands and she can practically hear Shane in her ear, telling her to _spit it out_. "I wanted to say thank you."

Maya cocks an eyebrow because that was the last thing she was expecting to hear. "Thank you?"

Amy nods. "For helping me with the croquembouche thing. You know, when I made the mess and made it all croquemplode all over the place."

A small chuckle slips from Maya's lips even though she knows Liam and Karma are right there and neither of them probably finds it funny at all . "You're welcome," she says. "But you thanked me already. That day."

Amy nods again. "I know, it's just… I was pretty horrible to you," she says. "And that was a huge mess up and I could've gotten you fired and then you'd have been out of job and maybe you wouldn't have been able to pay your rent and then you and your husband would've been on the street and then -"

"Wait," Maya says. " _What_?"

"Sorry," Amy says. She knows she was babbling cause well... _her_ … and Karma's just about the only person who can keep up when she starts rambling and she's sure Maya must think she's nuts now, if she didn't _before_ and that's _so_ not the impression she wanted to make -

"Amy!" Karma's voice snaps her out of it. "Inner monologue again," she says. "Use your _words_."

"Right," Amy says. "What I meant was…" She bites her lip. "What was I saying?"

Liam doesn't even try to cover the laugh with a cough this time and Karma just rests head in her hands and wonders how it is Amy even makes it out of bed some days.

"There was something about me getting fired and going broke," Maya says. "But the part… I'm just a little…" She shakes her head. " _Husband_?"

"Husband," Amy repeats. "Yours. You know. Blonde guy, big arms. Tuft of chia pet looking… fur.. sticking out the top of his shirt." Maya looks at her with utter confusion (and that is _so_ going around tonight) and Amy tries to clarify. "He picked you up at the cake tasting thingy."

The confusion stays on Maya's face for just a moment and then, like the sun rising, so full and beautiful and bright and… sunny… (and yes, Amy can't help thinking in goofy metaphors in Maya's presence and no, she can't do much better than the sun cause she's kind of blinded _right now_ ) realization washes over Maya and she laughs.

And laughs.

And laughs again.

And laughs some more and Amy starts to wonder if maybe _she_ needs the lozenge and then Maya catches her breath and smiles at the blonde. "You thought he was… _husband_ … oh… oh _my…."_

Now it's Amy who's confused (and starting to get the feeling she _might_ need to kick Karma's ass later.) "He's not?"

Maya shakes her head. "That's Leo," she says. "He owns the company I work for. He's from Sweden and that chia pet fur is just about his most prized possession and he's a _great_ guy but _really_ not my type."

"So you don't have a husband?" Amy asks and yes, she knows the question's already been answered, but this is _important_ and she needs to be _sure_ because Karma _seemed_ sure but, apparently, was wrong (wrong about a guy and a marriage and gee, maybe _that_ should be a fucking sign.)

"No," Maya says as a waiter brushes by and she's reminded they're standing in the middle of the restaurant floor. "No husband. No wife, either, which would be at least _slightly_ more likely, but… um… I'm gonna be late and I think you're date's waiting..

"I'm _not_ ," Elise says and everyone turns to look at her since they all, kinda, forgot her.

"Right," Maya says. "But I _do_ have to get go -"

"Let me buy you a drink," Amy blurts (and Karma just lets her head hit the table.) "When you're done with your clients, I mean. As a thank you, you know, for… everything."

There's a moment when this look passes over Maya's face and Amy thinks she recognizes _that_ look and she thinks maybe, just _maybe_ , she's got a shot. But then…

"I appreciate the offer, Amy," Maya says. "But you don't have to. And besides, you're on a date…"

"Trust me," Elise chimes in. "She'll be free."

Amy smiles, the last obstacle (besides Maya still not being for sure gay and/or not interested) out of the way and Maya, after a moment, nods.

"OK," she says. "Half an hour, at the bar."

Amy nods and smiles like a kid on Christmas and Maya heads off to her meeting and Liam shakes his head in amazement and Karma shakes _her_ head in futility and Elise…

Well, she just leaves. And not a one of them notice.

* * *

"So..." Amy says, her fingers drumming on the side of her beer, trying desperately to figure out a way to bring _the_ subject up. She knows the husband hurdle has been… _hurdled…_ and she knows Maya said a wife was slightly more likely, but that's not _for sure_.

And Amy _needs_ for sure.

She doesn't need another Leah, and yes, she knows this wouldn't be exactly the same thing but if she's going to kiss Maya (and she's certainly _planning_ on it, though, again, she kinda needs to know Maya's thoughts on the matter) she needs to know _for sure_ because kissing another straight girl is _so_ not happening.

Amy thinks she's picking up on the signs but it's been a while and most of her… dates… (and that's what _she's_ calling them even if she knows that might be slightly… generous… in some cases) were either fix ups or blind (blind _dates_ , not actually blind _people_ ) she's smart enough to know that she wasn't always the greatest flirt to begin with. She hadn't really even tried with Karma, Reagan had flirted enough for the both of them, she'd skipped past flirting and gone straight to one sided making out with Leah, and Oliver…

She shudders in her seat and tries not to think about _that_.

Amy's so unsure and so desperate to _be_ sure (she doesn't know how many chances anyone gets at finding _the one_ , but she's pretty sure she already blew at least one) that she's been discreetly texting Shane since she got to the bar, begging for clarification.

 _Amy: She touched my hand_

 _GBF: Why?_

 _Amy: We were standing next to each other and a woman bumped into her from behind and she sorta fell into me and that_ totally _counts, right?_

A half dozen or so of those and Shane's answers start coming in emoji form (and who knew the iPhone had gotten the middle finger one?) and Amy's so engrossed in her latest message she almost doesn't hear Maya calling her name.

But then the other woman (and she is _so_ a woman and so _not_ a girl and that just doesn't help _at all_ ) puts her hand on Amy's arm and, once the world stops swimming before her eyes, Amy turns to face her.

"You were saying?"

Smooth, Raudenfeld. _Smooth_.

There's a hint of mischief in Maya's smile and, for just a second, Amy thinks she's busted.

"Tell Shane I said hi," Maya says.

Yup. Busted.

Amy starts to try and explain but Maya reaches over and plucks the phone from Amy's hand, scanning the messages as Amy's eyes grow wider and her blush grows redder and then she's typing ( _typing!_ ) a message and then handing the phone back to Amy.

"Let me know," Maya says and she doesn't _say_ it so much as _whisper_ it, right into Amy's ear, her breath soft and warm against the blonde's skin and then she's walking away and Amy's confused (again) until she looks down and reads Maya's message.

 _Amy: Hey, Shane. It's Maya. Just wanted to let you know that Amy wasn't totally crazy and I_ have _been flirting with her all night and now I'm going to go for a stroll along the Riverwalk and if she'd like to join me I think we could have fun or… she could stay here and talk to you. Later -M._

She looks up just in time to see Maya leaving the bar (but not without a look back and a smile and even _Amy_ knows what _that_ smile means) and she tosses a couple bills down on the bar and drops her phone in her purse (not before shutting it _off_ ) and then she's up and down the steps and out the door, looking one way and then the other, trying to find Maya but she can't see her anywhe -

"What was that?" Maya asks. "Like ten seconds?" Amy turns to find Maya leaning against the building behind her, that same smile on her face. "Thought you'd have a _little_ more pride than that."

Amy shrugs. "I just didn't want… " _Now or never, Amy._ "I didn't want _you_ to miss your chance at all _this_ ," she waves her hand up and down her body, the tiniest of smirks playing on her lips.

Maya laughs and steps forward, taking Amy by the hand,lacing their fingers together. "Smooth, Raudenfeld," she says. "There may be hope for you yet."

With a surge of confidence she didn't know she had, Amy pulls Maya close, wrapping one hand around the other woman's waist and letting her hand settle on the small of her back. "Hope for _us_ , you mean?"

Maya's eyes dart to Amy's lips and her tongue slips out to gently wet her own and it's been a while (a _long_ while) but Amy still recognizes _that_ sign and Maya starts to speak but she only gets as far as "If you play your car -" before Amy silences her with a kiss, their first but (if Amy has _anything_ to say about it) definitely not their _last_ because it's a _good_ kiss, _really_ good, the kind of kiss that makes your stomach tighten and flip and your skin tingle and your heart race.

The first time Amy kisses Maya it's the kind of kiss that makes her weak in the knees and makes her see stars _and_ makes her throat close and her vision blur and the last thought she has before she drops is that she hopes she doesn't die.

At least not before she gets another kiss.


End file.
